


Liquid Courage

by howthemoonsuitsthenightsky



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: F/M, I guess this is angst, idk - Freeform, someone pls help, this contains drunk people and vom you have been warned, well this is almost a week late oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-02-07 10:55:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21456886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howthemoonsuitsthenightsky/pseuds/howthemoonsuitsthenightsky
Summary: After gaining permission from Mr Rose to propose to Winifred, Gilbert races back to Avonlea and the only person he feels can help.
Relationships: Gilbert Blythe & Anne Shirley, Gilbert Blythe/Anne Shirley
Comments: 10
Kudos: 110





	Liquid Courage

After Mr. Rose’s proposal, Gilbert couldn’t get back to Avonlea fast enough. Racing through the streets of Charlottetown, heading the well trodden path to the station, he felt his breath coming in faster and faster waves. The crashing against his throat made his head pound. The waves only died down when he was aboard the train, sitting with his head pressed up to the cool window to try to kill some of the heat in his cheeks.

As the countryside flew by, he had time to think over the proposal of his proposal. He knew that anyone else in his position would leap at the chance, the chance to marry a smart, attractive woman, the chance to go to the university of his dreams and the chance at a life he could only dream of. But, no matter how hard he tried, Gilbert couldn’t manage to imagine himself in that situation; despite the forming plan, he couldn’t place himself in the picture. 

As the train pulled into the station in Avonlea, the sudden stop jolted him from his thoughts. He rushed to get up, placing his cap back on his head slightly askew, in such a rush that he almost fell off the steps down to the platform. Earning a tut from the conductor, the train pulled away, leaving him alone on the platform. 

Glancing at the clock, he saw that he was back in Avonlea an hour and a half earlier than planned, daylight still bouncing off the tracks as it did so often in summertime. Striding over to his horse, he gently untied her from where he had moored her that morning, when life was so different. Lifting himself up onto his saddle, his automatic response was not to ride towards home, Bash had told him that he may as well stay out as late as he wished with his mother there to help with Delphine, but it was to head towards the ruins.

The rhythm of riding only allowed him to get lost in his thoughts once more. He knew why he was riding to the ruins, because she would be there, Anne. Though he could talk to Bash about his problems, he knew that no one would understand them like Anne, the person who could understand how much his dreams meant to him as she had her own dreams that were just as worthy. And because, if there was going to be anything in the way of his marriage, it would most certainly be Anne. If Gilbert admitted it to himself, the piece of the picture that was missing in his life in Paris was her. He couldn’t imagine exploring the streets, dining in the café’s, starting a home there, without her. 

As he approached the ruins, he could hear the commotions of the celebrating students. Leaving his mount tied to a nearby tree so she would have at least some protection from the ruckus, Gilbert made his way through the long grass until he walked through the archway into the ruins proper. 

“Gilbert!” He was suddenly accosted by a slap on the shoulder from Moody and the presentation of a half empty bottle of some clear liquid. “We thought you’d be too busy proposing to join us.” He let out a laugh, not aware of Gilbert’s tight lined expression. 

“No, I-” He was cut off as Moody pushed the bottle to his chest, forcing Gilbert to take it off him. The glass was warm to the touch, as if it had been passed between many hands already, which Gilbert could only consider to be the case seeing as the exam had ended many hours ago.

“Well, drink up then!” Moody was smiling expectantly, his eyes slipping from Gilbert’s face to what he knew were the empty woods behind him, a move which Gilbert considered to be because his intoxicated state, not because there was actually anything in said woods. “You’ll need to catch up with everyone else.”

Sighing, Gilbert accepted the drink, raising the bottle tenderly to his lips. As the first wash of liquid hit his tongue, he fought the urge to gag, forcing himself to swallow despite the building burning in his throat. He made it to two gulps before he brought the bottle back down. “That is,” he paused to let out a cough, “vile.”

“I know, brilliant right?” Moody laughed as he staggered away, back towards the others, Gilbert presumed, leaving him with the bottle. 

Gilbert set out to follow his former classmate, rounding a corner to find the group gathered in small clusters around an emerging fire. His eyes were instantly drawn to Anne, her hair starting to fall out of its regimented braids, a laugh bubbling from between her lips as she sat next to Charlie. He knew it was hypocritical to not want to see her with a suitor when that was exactly what he was doing, but in that moment he didn’t care. Taking another swig, he headed in her direction, but once was again brought to a stop. 

“I hope you’re not being selfish with the alcohol, Gilbert,” Ruby’s musical tone sung to him as she appeared in front of him, one arm extended. 

“Not at all,” he replied, aiming to pass the bottle to her, though slightly misjudging the distance and hitting her lightly on the arm with it instead. After a couple of attempts, she managed to grab the bottle neck from him and took a deep swig. It seemed however, that her aim was as bad as his and she managed to spill some down her chin. 

“Here,” Gilbert sighed, swapping the bottle out for his handkerchief. The bottle was sticky from the overflow and despite his already swimming vision, Gilbert found himself licking the excess off his palm, finding that the more he drank, the less he disliked the taste.

Having finished cleaning herself up, Ruby handed his sodden cloth back to him. “Oh Gilbert, if you’d have done that for me a few months ago, I may have very well swooned into your arms.”

“If I’d not let you walk around with alcohol dripping down your chin?” Gilbert raised his eyebrows at her questioningly. 

Ruby rolled her eyes at him in return. “Gosh, I can hardly believe I called you romantic earlier. Maybe Winifred isn’t so lucky.” She giggled and swanned away as Gilbert was left in stunned silence. He too, if he admitted it, was unsure of how lucky Winifred was when at the mention of their engagement, he had come back to Avonlea in search of another girl.

As if the thought of her had drawn them together, Anne approached him at that very moment, swaying away from the fire in a way which told him that he was on her way to being as intoxicated as he felt. With the setting sun to one side of her and the fire behind, an ethereal glow surrounded her form. As she smiled, Gilbert felt his heart being to gallop, the soft pull of her lips drawing him closer.

“Am I speaking to the person with the best Queen’s entrance exam result in Avonlea then?” Anne asked as she came to a stop in front of him. 

He let out a small laugh, if only to hide how thankful he was that she was the first person there not to bring up Winifred to him. “I doubt it, not if someone called Anne Shirley-Cuthbert took the exam as well.”

“Well, when I looked around the room earlier, I couldn’t see her, so I think your chances are good.” She let out a laugh and Gilbert swore he felt his heart stop beating for a second. “May I?” She extended a hand for the bottle that he somehow still held. After a moment’s pause, he handed it over, marvelling at the spectacle of the bottle being raised to her lips. Her eyelids fluttered shut as she swallowed, a small contraction telling him that she still wasn’t used to the taste. As she lowered it, her eyes opened once more, and Gilbert felt a sudden urge to collapse at the feet of such beauty. 

Without warning, a tear escaped from the corner of Gilbert’s eye and before he could comprehend what was happening, his vision was blurred by the flood of tears escaping him. He raised his palms to his eyes, as if they could physically hold the tears in. 

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s all this?” Anne whispered. He heard her set the bottle down and then a strong pair of arms were being wrapped around his waist and his body pulled into hers. He lowered his hands from his eyes and allowed them to wrap around her shoulders, burying his face in her neck and breathing in her sweet scent until his breathing slowed and the tears dried up. 

“I’m so sorry, Anne,” he whispered, allowing himself to pull back from her. 

She refused to move any further back, keeping her hands firmly on his waist. “There’s no need to apologise, Gilbert. But, what on earth is the matter?”

Gilbert cast a look around, thankful that everyone else seemed not to have noticed his outburst. “It’s … it’s complicated.”

Anne turned, the gesture forcing her hair even further out of her braids, to look back at the groups around the fire. Turning back to him and connecting their eyes, she whispered, “Would you be more willing to talk somewhere more private?”

“I think that would be best,” Gilbert found himself admitting. Anne removed her hands from his waist, only to allow one of them to find his hand. The touch of their skin shot an electric current throughout Gilbert’s arm, raising his heart rate further, the gentle interlocking of their fingers ready to send him back into floods of tears for an entirely different reason. This, he imagined, would be how she would take him hand on their wedding night as she would lead him away from all their guests. A small patch of raised earth interrupted his thoughts as he was forced to try to not fall over and bring Anne down with him.

As they reached the other side of the ruins, Anne slowed them down until she found two rocks close together where they could comfortably sit. Once they were perched, Anne, to his surprise, didn’t let go of his hand, but instead ran her thumb in comforting circles against the back of his hand. “What’s the matter, Gilbert?”

Her question threatened more tears, but Gilbert forced himself to hold them back. “So, when I was in Charlottetown, I had dinner with Winifred and Mr and Mrs Rose. Then afterwards, Mr Rose said that I have his permission to ask for Winifred’s hand in marriage.” He barely felt Anne’s hand tighten in his. “I mean, marriage! I don’t know if that’s what I want, but it’s not just that.” He paused momentarily to catch his breath. “He said that he would help me, that I’d be able to study in Paris. He laid it out to me on a silver platter, Anne, all of it.”

He turned his head towards hers, trying to gage her expression, though he was met with blankness. “Sorry,” she whispered, letting her eyes scrunch closed for a moment, “I think the alcohol has well and truly gotten to me. You mean to say that Mr Rose has said you can marry Winifred, and that if you do he will fund you to study at the Sorbonne?”

Gilbert felt himself take a deep breath before replying. “Yes.” Even that single word was painful to push past his lips. 

“I don’t see the issue.” Anne’s reply came out more monotone than Gilbert expected. “I mean, Winifred is lovely, you don’t want to be a country doctor and the Sorbonne is your dream.”

Her puzzled expression stared him down as he formulated the right way to phrase his response. “But, what if it’s not my only dream?” 

That time, Gilbert felt Anne’s hand tighten around his. “What are your other dreams?” Anne’s voice had lowered to a whisper, as if they were children, hiding the fact that they were talking about something they shouldn’t. 

“I only have one other dream,” he matched her whisper. “But I don’t know if that dream wants me back.”

“From my experience, there’s only one way to find out. You have to-” Anne’s sentence was interrupted by a violent explosion from her mouth. Gilbert’s instinctive reaction was to run away from the noise and smell of the liquid erupting from her, but he forced himself to stay and quickly moved his hands to pull her braids back from her face. Thankfully, her aim was good enough that she had managed to miss both of their shoes and when it was over after a mere few seconds, there was only a small patch on the dirt to account for her drunkenness. “Ah Gil, I’m so sorry,” Anne spluttered out, coughing so as to clear her throat. 

“Don’t worry,” Gilbert replied. Realising her was still clutching her braids between his fingertips, he let her soft locks fall back against her shoulders. “Though I think that’s a sign that we need to get you home.”

He took Anne’s nod in response as a sign that she was ready to move. Gently, he positioned his arms under her elbow and guided her until she was standing. As they rose, she closed her eyes and for a moment, Gilbert was terrified that they would have a repeat of the situation only a minute earlier, but once standing, she merely swayed backwards slightly in his arms, before returning to being fully upright. 

“How on earth will I walk home like this?” Anne questioned mainly to herself, as if she had momentarily forgot who was holding her up. 

“Don’t worry, I rode here. It’ll be much quicker,” Gilbert paused as he considered bringing Anne home to Marilla in such a state, “though hopefully not quick enough that you won’t have some chance to sober up.”

Anne nodded once more, leaning into complete acceptance of Gilbert’s plan. They slowly made their way over to the horse, who seemed unfazed by being approached by two drunk teenagers.

Getting Anne on the horse was an entirely different issue. She was able to take hold of the reins but seemed to lack the strength she needed to pull herself up. Instead, Gilbert had to push her up from below. As he placed his hands on her rear, only to assist her, of course, he muttered to himself “And I thought coming back to Avonlea for another girl was bad.” He was grateful that Anne didn’t hear him make the comment. 

Coming up onto the saddle behind her, Gilbert let his arms move around her to take the reins from her work-hardened hands. Anne was in no mood to give up the piece of leather however, forcing Gilbert’s hands to rest on top of hers so it would seem like the control was only coming from one place. 

As they set off into the night, Gilbert became increasingly aware of the proximity of their bodies. He could feel every inch of Anne pressed up against him, from her head under his chin, to her back aligned with his chest, down to the lines of their legs almost merging into one. He quickly realised that if he were to accept his future and propose to Winifred, this would be the last chance he would have to have something like this, an unknown intimacy, with Anne. So instead, he began to embrace the feeling, to commit it to his memory so it could be saved for a rainy day. 

And then Anne, though lacking her distinct ability with words, changed everything. “I have a dream too. And I think he might want me back.”

**Author's Note:**

> In the original ending to this fic, I had Gilbert and Anne kiss, but it just didn't sit right, so instead I had Anne throw up, I apologise.


End file.
